All Eyes on Gunz 3

by Warren Holloway

  Nino realized that the fiend was just a distraction. The other nigga was trying to lay on him or rob whatever he had in the trick, but to no avail.

  “Yo, this nigga here ain’t no fiend! I think he gave that fiend some work to distract the dogs,” Pistol said.

  Nino came over to the nigga that his crew had hemmed up against the truck.

  “What’s your name, nigga?”

  “Ricky Boy.”

  “You think I was going to let you rob me, nigga? Or was you trying to steal something out of my shit?” Nino asked as his little homies started patting down the nigga and came across a gun on his waistline.

  “Oh, you heavy? This nigga got a tre-pound-seven with them tips up in here. You want to take my folks out, huh?” L-Geez said, taking his gun from him.

  “What you want us to do with this nigga, Nino?” Pistol asked, all hyped and ready to put in some work.

  Before Nino could respond, the nigga Ricky took off running and fearing the worst was about to happen, especially with the young nigga Pistol ready to pop shells into him.

  “Donte! Vicious! Get ’em, boys!” Nino ordered his pits to track down the fleeing stickup kid.

  Ricky ran fast but not fast enough to escape the pit bulls that leapt on him like a cheetah attacking its prey in the wild, tearing at his ankles and calves.

  Pistol and L-Geez ran behind the dogs and saw how fast they tracked him down. Just like the fiend, Ricky screamed for help upon feeling the dogs tear at his flesh. They crushed the bones in his leg as they shook violently with their locks on him. Feeling the intense pain and his bones being crushed, Ricky blacked out, only to be awakened as the dogs started tugging on his flesh.

  “Help me! These dogs are killing me, man!” Ricky pleaded, unable to bear any more pain.

  “See, nigga, all you had to do was ask me or one of my homies to put you in the game and we would have, but you chose to be a dumb nigga out here,” Pistol said.

  He then squeezed the trigger and sent one through his face, taking him away from the pain he was feeling and this world. His brains leapt out the back of his head, soaking into the cold, white snow and giving off steam as the flesh mixed into the melting snow.

  Once Pistol put down the nigga, they all ran back to their whips.

  Pistol jumped in his Black Lincoln MKZ with chrome flakes in the paint, flowing with the 24-inch chrome Antar rims.

  L-Geez raced off in his all-black Range Rover HSE with tinted windows on black 23-inch rims.

  Dollar followed behind them in his black pearl G55 AMG Mercedes Benz truck with 26-inch chrome rims and TVs throughout.

  Nino made his way back over to the fiend real quick.

  “You had a better chance of getting high every day and dying slow, but today you chose to die fast,” he said.

  Nino fired a shot into the fiend’s chest and pierced his heart, killing him instantly as his body flopped from the thunderous slug pounding into his chest and sucking the life from his flesh. Nino did not display any compunction in his actions. He was too far gone for that at this point. He jumped in his truck and took off, leaving the dumb shit on the ground behind him.

  CHAPTER 25

  DOWN IN MIAMI, Tre was now seventeen years old and a force to be reckoned with in the hood. He blew up from the money and cocaine he was pushing from Tommy Guns. Tre respected OG Tommy Guns to the fullest and got a tattoo on his arm to keep his memory alive and well.

  As for his homies from Atlanta, he had T-shirts made up with Little D’s and Geez’s faces on them to represent their gangsta until the end. Tre also kept in contact with Ra Ra down in Mexico. Ra Ra would call Tre weekly to see how he was doing and to make sure he did not need anything.

  Tre and his mom moved out of the projects, but he still had the hood on lockdown with a few stash houses. He copped a crib for a quarter million, and he put it in his mom’s name along with the royal–blue, high-gloss 760Li BMW with chrome flakes in the paint that shined even more with the chrome 24s on it. The car pissed off his neighbors, because he was so young to be driving a car that nice. He did not care; he just viewed them as haters. Now the young niggas in the hood looked up to the young boss, with him being in power and running the hood’s hustlas, who ranged in age from eleven to seventeen.

  Tre drove through the Miami hood on a partly cloudy seventy-five-degree day in the winter. He saw his squad of hustlas, so he blew his horn to get their attention. The 760Li came through gliding with the beats low and TVs on so his little Spanish mami from Puerto Rico could watch her shows. He hit the switch, which rolled the dark tinted windows down and allowed the young squad to see his face.

  “What it do, folk? What da hood doing out here?” Tre asked.

  “We getting to it around here, just like you would, feel me?” the young buck said while handing Tre two $10,000 blocks of $20s and $50s. Without a doubt, Tre appreciated what his young squad was doing.

  “You already got that? That’s what I’m talking about. The hood is still doing it out here,” Tre said while looking on at the bands of money he handed to his girl in the passenger seat.

  “It’s all we know. Get money and fuck bitches!”

  As he continued talking to his squad, the sexy Latina in the passenger seat was still watching the hood classic Belly Part 1 featuring Nas and DMX. Her phone interrupted the movie as she took the call.

  “Hola, que tal?”

  “Es tambien y tu?”

  “Bueno. What you calling for, Letti?”

  “Raven, I heard somebody shot Tre’s big cousin, Man Man while trying to rob him.”

  “Who they say did this shit?” Raven asked, ready to put work in for her man.

  “That moreno, Juice, from the south side.”

  “Gracias, chica. I’ll let him know,” Raven said before hanging up the phone and turning to Tre to get his attention. “Papi, esta ahora! We have to go take care of some family business.”

  Tre stopped speaking with his team and looked over at Raven. He could tell she was serious.

  “What’s going on, baby?”

  “Somebody shot ya folk Man Man. Some moreno named Juice,” Raven responded.

  Raven was Tre’s main chick and ride-or-die bitch. She was born in San Juan, Puerto Rico, but raised in Miami. She was nineteen years old and stood five foot two. She filled out all her curves and weighed 120 pounds. She had long, silky black hair that she kept braided, which showed her natural beauty. She wore no makeup, yet had smooth skin and glowing green eyes that only added to her beauty for her man and deception if you were on the wrong side. Her full lips were glossy yet soft, and she had a mole over the top left side of her mouth, which added to her sexy, natural look. She definitely was all about her man Tre. He not only gave her what she needed physically and emotionally, but he also came into her life when she did not have anyone to take care of her when she was down. She always remembered that and appreciated him for all he had done for her.

  Tre was pissed off after hearing this about his fam. He knew that somebody probably had caught him slipping. His cousin was always on point with shit like this until now. Tre turned to his homies outside of the car.

  “Yo, Trigger! Jay! Jump in the back. We got to handle some business.”

  His homies did not hesitate. They were already strapped as they slid into the back seat. Trigger and Jay were both sixteen years old, and both of them knew Tre for most of their lives, which is why Tre selected them to come along to handle the situation.

  Trigger was five eight and built thick. He was a borderline fat boy. He was always eating food, but he was also about the work when it came to popping off at a nigga. He, too, wore braids that he had in for over two weeks while grinding hard in the hood. He was definitely focused on the paper. Trigger was dark skinned with a baby face just like Jay.

  Jay had his hair cut close and all the way around, which showed off his premature waves that he was trying to groom in. Jay was the same height as Trigger.

  Tre stomped his foot
on the gas and made his way over to the other side of the city to track down the nigga that did this to his cousin. He knew where Juice hung out and what he was into, being a stickup kid. But he just happened to fuck with the wrong muthafucka, Tre’s cousin, who was also moving his product.

  Trigger was in the back seat checking his twin nickel-plated 9mms. He had chambered a round in each of them. Jay also checked his .357 Magnum with the snub nose and hollow-point tips that he just copped from a fiend that came through. Tre kept his MAC-11 tucked to his right as he drove around ready to roil at all times. As for the beautiful Raven, she carried twin nickel-plated .380s with pearl handles. She focused on getting at the nigga Juice.

  As he was driving through the hood where Juice was from, Tre spotted his truck parked out front of the Chinese take-out place.

  “There’s that nigga’s truck right there. The Cherokee Laredo,” Tre said while driving past the truck.

  “It don’t look like anybody’s up in there either,” Trigger exclaimed while checking through the windows.

  Tre looked around and saw that he was not standing around, so he must be in the Chinese spot.

  “Raven, baby, it’s time to work yo magic. If he’s up in the Chinese spot, do what you do best. Trig and Jay, make sure she’s good, alright?”

  “You already know we gonna hold you down,” Jay said, all hyped and ready to get it done.

  Raven exited the 7 Series looking good as can be in her tight lipstick-red Dolce & Gabbana jeans and white D&G top that pressed against her breasts, showing her perky nipples that would distract many men. Her high heels added to her sexy boss-bitch swagga as she strutted her beauty with the diamond bracelet Tre had bought her as a gift, along with the matching nose ring and earrings to set it off.

  As soon as she entered the Chinese spot, she got the attention of Juice and his crew, along with a few others and a female who looked like she went both ways, eyeing her up and down like fresh meat.

  “Ahi costiga me. You looking good up in them jeans, mami. What’s your name?” one of Juice’s goons asked, looking in lust while awaiting her answer.

  “Are you playing hard to get, mami, or you already have a man?” the other goon said.

  She just smiled at them before she looked up at the menu as if to ignore them and wanting to get Juice’s attention.

  “You sexy, chica, but why you ignore my homies like that?” Juice asked.

  Now that she had his attention, she smiled and turned from the menu to look at Juice.

  “Papi, if I gave you or your crew the time of day, you wouldn’t be able to handle all of this and what I can do with it.”

  “Oh shit! She’s a freak!” Juice said, seeing her twerk her ass to lure him in briefly.

  “She’s just talking shit, Juice. She ain’t fo’ real,” his homie said.

  Juice and his team grabbed their food that was ready on the countertop. His boys walked out while he stayed behind trying to get Raven’s number. He was feeling her look and the way she carried herself.

  “So what’s up, mami? You going to let me get your number or what?” he asked.

  Before she could respond, multiple gunshots erupted outside the Chinese spot. Juice quickly turned to exit. He wanted to check on his squad, but Raven reacted just as fast pulling out her twin .380s.

  “You make another move and it will be your last, cabron!” Raven said, placing the guns to the back of his head and walking him out of the Chinese place.

  “You fuckin’ pretty bitch! I can’t believe this shit!” he said, feeling the steel pressing against his head.

  He knew not to try her after hearing the gunshots. It was all too real with how she played him and his crew.

  When they stepped out of the Chinese place, he saw his crew lying on the ground lifeless with blood everywhere. He knew what it was and why they were there. Tre walked up to the nigga that Raven had the guns on.

  “You fucked up fo’ real, fool! Man Man is my peoples, and the product belongs to me,” Tre said, wanting either the product and/or the money, since he could not bring his cousin back to life. “Where’s my shit at?”

  “Fuck you, little nigga! I ain’t giving you shit. You want to kill me, get it done then!”

  “Oh, you about that life, huh?” Tre said as he pressed the MAC-11 up against the nigga’s stomach.

  He fired off a burst of rounds inflicting immense pain on him while dropping him where he stood. Tre stood over him and looked into his eyes. He could see the fear of dying setting in; however, the nigga was still talking shit.

  “You still ain’t getting your muthafucking money, nigga,” he said while spitting out blood.

  “Jay! Trigger! Check his truck,” Tre said, knowing he would still have some money or something in his whip.

  People like him would not leave it at home, since they feared someone would take them under.

  Through his pain, Juice gave a brief smirk to Tre, since Tre had figured out to check the truck. Trigger and Jay found two bricks and $20,000 in the truck.

  “Tre, we got two of them things and a dub, folk,” Jay announced.

  “You think shit is funny. Now yo’ bitch ass is going to die for this shit. Raven, smoke this nigga!” Tre snapped as he walked away and allowed his girl to put two in his face, slamming his head down on the ground from the brute force of the slugs crashing into his face and taking his life on impact.

  They all jumped into the 760Li as Tre mashed the gas and raced off, leaving the bodies to lie until the cops came. As they were driving back to the projects, Tre started giving the crew a breakdown of what he wanted done.

  “Jay, I want you and Trigger to take these two bricks, break them down, and flood the hood. Get at me when y’all are done. As for the money, I’ma take it over to my aunt’s crib so she can have it for the funeral and his kids.”

  “Papi, when we’re done at you’re aunt’s place, can we break the back seat in like you said we was?” Raven asked in a very sexy voice while looking over at him as he drove. He could feel and see her looking at him. “You know I get turned on with this gunplay shit. It’s like a dose of adrenaline that runs through my body and makes me want to cum.”

  “You a freak, mami! That’s what you is!” Tre said as he pulled up to the projects and let out his homies.

  “I’m only a freak for you, papi, and you know this!” Raven said while caressing his arm.

  “Y’all need to get a room or something!” Trigger said as he got out of the car and focused back on getting the money.

  “The way she talks, you think we would need a room!” Tre said with a laugh as he leaned over to kiss her soft lips and make her happy as always.

  “Mmmh! You know you like when I act like that. It turns you on, too. You want it now?” Raven said, looking into his eyes and kissing him once more.

  “Business first, mami! Always business first.”

  “Let’s go take care of what we have to, and then it’s back to us.”

  CHAPTER 26

  A FEW DAYS later, Nino flew his squad out to Los Angeles to secure a heavy order of 150 bricks of pure Colombian cocaine. Nino took his crew to a restaurant owned by his connect that served the best authentic Colombian dishes. Nino also brought along close to $2 million dollars in cash that he left outside in the Chrysler 300C rental he got from the airport. He was getting a rush out of his new life and how fast money started to flow in with his new connect. At 12.5 a key, 150 came out to $1,875,000. That’s a figure he’d triple if everything played out the way he wanted it to.

  Nino and his crew talked business and future plans when the waitress brought their food over: pork chops, yellow rice with black beans, white rice with beans on the side in gravy, fried fish, stewed fish, and more of the Latino soul food. The waitress also leaned over and whispered into Nino’s ear to deliver a business message.

  “Ramon will be here in five minutes. He knows you’re waiting.”

  Nino nodded to acknowledge her before focusing back on the g
ood food in front of him.

  Ramon was the Spanish nigga who Nino met a few months back when he was partying in LA.

  Within minutes, Ramon Perez (a.k.a. Pesadilla, the Nightmare) arrived. He earned his name for the way he chased down people who owed him or had betrayed him. He also became a nightmare for those in his way on his rise to power. The thirty-two-year-old was raised in the streets of New York and LA, but he came up fast and ended up on top.

  He stood five foot ten and weighed 190 pounds. He was certainly a force to be reckoned with in the business, especially any time he was near or his name was mentioned. Ramon’s dark eyes were backed by his dark stare and thick eyebrows. His black hair was combed back with a little gray patch on the side that was more like a birthmark, which he viewed as wisdom that he was given over everyone else.

  Ramon was well groomed and had a tight team of security that ran just as smooth as his legal and illegal businesses.

  Six men entered the restaurant and immediately got the attention of Nino and his crew as well as other customers as they all positioned themselves around the inside. Ramon then entered with six more men, which displayed his absolute power and position.

  Pistol, Dollar, and L-Geez never saw the nigga Ramon like Nino did, so they were all impressed by his power and presence. Ramon’s men gestured to Nino and his crew to stand up so they could be searched. As they were being searched, Pistol thought about how he would normally be strapped if he was back East, but now he was traveling empty-handed.

  “Nino, this is business. As you know, I have to do this to secure my best interest, which is me, because I am my strongest asset,” Ramon said.

  “I ain’t tripping. I know you have to make sure everybody is staying honest.”

  After they were searched, Nino and Ramon embraced and greeted one another. Nino began to introduce his crew, but Ramon stopped him.

  “No need, mi amigo. I know who they are already,” he said, pointing to the cameras in his restaurant. “Before I came here, I had one of my associates run their names and photos. As I said, I have to protect my best interest: me,” he said with a light laugh. Even Nino found himself laughing at how deep Ramon was with his security mindset. “So, Nino, tell me, mi amigo, did you travel this far empty-handed?”